Escape Artist
by huntlene
Summary: "So say, hypothetically, if you spent a lot of time kissing them, then you wouldn't really be friends anymore, would you?" "Is this about Arlene?" "No, it's for a friend." "So, Arlene?" A lot can happen in four years. A Hunter x Arlene AU.
1. Chapter 1

The house returned back to its peaceful state. Summers were always rough with everyone cooped up at home for two months, but after an entire year without any fights or yelling from the floor below, the break was already too much for the twins to handle. It was a good thing that their dad shipped their brother away as a last hurrah; now that he would be living back at home, the tension would rise again.

Their brother had thrown a good chunk of money down the drain as well. The down-payment for the three of them to go to Vaudeville for next year would now go to something far more useful – repairing the school's fire damages. Miles made his story perfectly clear; he didn't intend to put the whole admin building up in smoke, though lighting up the headmaster's desk was completely intentional. The three-generation legacy at the school was no more, and now they would attend an ordinary high school. A _community_ high school.

"I already spent money on your school for the year, I'm not spending any more," was a yell Hunter would often hear from down the hall. He would also hear Miles fight back, straining his voice in an attempt to sound stronger than his father's, but that was just the usual around here; those two fought constantly, and while the initial reaction to the arson was understandable, continuing the argument was pointless. He figured Miles should know by now there's no arguing with Dad because Dad always wins, no questions asked.

The argument was also a harsh reminder that a new school was coming in a few short months. Both Hunter and his sister Frankie would have been freshmen at Vaudeville in September, and attending the school was something they had known to expect their entire life. Since money had never been a problem, none of them had ever gone to a public school before. Regardless of how he saw his siblings deal with it, Hunter knew he wasn't ready for high school at all, private or public. High school meant responsibility, trying to put your life together, planning for the great future ahead and a whole bunch of other crap that went over his head. His only plan at the moment was to play video games with Frankie all day like he did every summer, finally getting to open all the games they had bought and saved for the annual event. It was clockwork: 12:00 a.m. on July 1st was like a second Christmas morning, ripping the plastic off of cases they had put a self-ban on opening in the earlier few months. From there, it was free reign in front of the TV in Hunter's room until one of them fell asleep, and the mutual agreement to only play while both awake would take place.

It wasn't much of a big deal to them otherwise. While they were well-off, they didn't have much to do in the summer; both of their parents worked the same hours as they did throughout the year, and without Miles being old enough to drive, the kids were stuck in the house all day. Miles was never really into video game stuff; he'd play with his friend Chewy sometimes, but the real obsession laid with the twins. The two of them may do their own thing at school, but at home there would be non-stop jabbering over comics and gaming and everything else Miles thought was "nerdy". He'd never actually use the word, though. Nobody was allowed to say it. Frankie gave everyone crap whenever someone at school called Hunter that.

And now, with Miles already shipped off on a month-long school trip, it would only be a summer of the two of them eating chips and playing video games until the sun starts to rise. Only two more days until _Chronicles of Mystara_ could finally make its way off the top shelf and into the Xbox for its debut in the Hollingsworth Dynamic Duo's yearly game marathon.

#####

"But we always do this on Canada Day!"

"This isn't fair, you know we've had this planned all year!"

"Peanuts, peanuts," their mother soothed over the twins' retorts, "I know you two like to do your gaming thing, but this is important to your father's career."

"But why does it have to be tomorrow?" Frankie fought back, still looking angered. "Can't we get it done some other time?"

She sighed, lowering her head. "I'm sorry kiddos, but an election takes a lot of work, and a family man is the best image we can go for right now."

Hunter wanted to roll his eyes, but he held back; that was a sure fire way to get punished. However, he couldn't refrain from letting out a simple "this is stupid" under his breath.

"You can do your game thing tomorrow at midnight instead," she suggested.

"But it's not the same," Hunter made clear. "Why can't we wait and do the campaign thing when Miles is home?"

Their mother's expression changed; her shoulders contracted, pinning her arms to her sides. "You know how Miles likes to make a mess," she worded her response carefully. "It's better that we start off the campaign as clean as possible, and what greater way to do that than a family trip to the Canada Day celebrations downtown?"

Hunter let himself fall backwards from his sitting position on the edge of Frankie's bed to lying flat across it. Regardless of if it would help his dad's chances of getting elected mayor next term, it wasn't fair that it had to change all of their plans.

"_Nobody_ is even awake at seven in the morning in the summer," said Frankie, "let alone at some stupid festival that nobody cares about anyways!"

"I'd like to see you try that attitude with your father, young lady."

Frankie stopped. Knowing the conversation always got heated when Miles talked back to their dad, Hunter knew it would be dumb of her to even think about risking it.

Their mother continued. "You can do whatever you want tonight but I want you in bed by ten o'clock. I'm waking you up at six."

Neither Hunter nor Frankie responded, and their mother took it as her cue to leave. The sound of the door closing snapped the both of them back to audible complaints they were too afraid to say when she was in the room.

"Stupid campaign," Hunter mumbled.

Frankie too leaned back in exasperation, resting her back on the bed as her feet dangled over the edge. "Why didn't they tell us before so we could have worked around it I mean, do they think I don't have plans of my own or anything?"

"Isn't the election not for like, what, another year anyway?"

"I don't know, I don't understand anything about politics."

Driving back to the number one issue, Hunter adjusted himself to face his sister. "So when do you want to start then? Midnight tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "End of the year party for hip-hop the next morning."

_Dance_. The one part of Frankie that Hunter definitely did not understand. "What about that night?"

"It's a sleepover."

"Okay, what about…" He went through the days in his mind. "Thursday. Thursday night?"

She scrunched up her face, eyes pointing up into her mind to recall her schedule. "I think I'm at Keisha's. I don't know yet."

Hunter sat himself up, getting bored of going through her super busy schedule. "Well, if it takes longer than a week, I'm not waiting for you."

"Yeah I know," she said, sounding as let down as Hunter felt. "You can go ahead and play it tomorrow if you want."

He wasn't sure what she meant by that. "Like, without you?"

"Yeah," Frankie affirmed. "I mean, I was counting on tonight for sure, but now that things have changed I'm not sure when we'll get the chance soon."

Hunter looked down, staring at the bright pink flower rug at the foot of her bed. "I kind of wanted to play with you though," he mumbled.

"We'll get the chance." She flipped onto her side, looking at him again. "I mean, the summer's just started, right?"

"True," he said, giving up on fighting for it. Picking at the groove of his thumb nail, he wondered exactly when that chance would be.

#####

It was barely even the beginning of summer, but Arlene already had bought all of her supplies for next year and arranged them in a row on her dresser: pens, paper, binders, highlighters, rulers, locker accessories, and a new backpack with a pocket for her laptop. She re-organised them all five or six times to fit perfectly in their new home until the first day of high school.

Back to school was her favourite time of year. She appreciated the vacation and the relaxation that came with it, but the idea of a fresh new start was something she looked forward to. It's a new beginning, allowing a genuine smile, a robust mind and a more enjoyable experience. This isn't to say she enters a slump as the year goes on, there is just simply a time for everyone's prime, and September worked best for her.

Michelle thought her cousin's eagerness went a little overboard. "Do you already have your lunches packed, too?"

"Hello? High school means _cafeterias_," Arlene responded. "And I'd just eat it all beforehand anyway."

"I'm shocked you don't have all that stuff in a cage so you don't use it all by accident" said Michelle's sister Chloe, not looking up from her phone. Though the siblings were friendly with Arlene, the distance between them meant they rarely got to see one another; these few hours every couple of months were for catch-up time on family teasing.

Michelle threw her hand in the air, "Excuse me teacher?" She squealed, imitating Arlene's light voice. "I accidentally did all of my homework for the next three years since I have nothing better to do with my life."

Arlene picked up a pillow from her bed and tossed it at the two of them, both sitting on the floor. Though amused by her own action, she added on. "Not true! I do other things than just school."

"Like what?" asked Chloe, raising the phone a little toward the window for better reception. "Your yearbook club only happens during school, you already had your dance recital last month, and I'm pretty sure there's not a community activity for obsessive Marvel trivia."

Arlene sat down on the floor next to them. "At least I have fun."

"We're kidding," Chloe clarified. "Kind of. Like, you're weird, but Michelle's weirder."

"Okay there, Miss I'm-Sixteen-And-I've-Never-Had-A-Boyfriend."

And the sibling rivalry began. "Well, at least I'm not dating some stoner who only likes you because he has some weird Asian fetish."

"He's still hotter than you."

Arlene smiled to herself, though a little jealous that they had such a close bond that even a little teasing was a part of their everyday routine. She was an only child, and though she grew up in a busy neighbourhood, she never quite had the knack of making friends. It always had her parents on her case. "Invite people over!" "What about that nice girl down the street, I heard she's wanting some new friends!" The truth was, however, that she was perfectly happy just being her own person. She'd make up fantasy worlds in her head, an environment of true companions and no secret hidden identities. The real world was full of secrets, everyone pretending to be someone they're not. It was better to sit alone at recesses for years than to be caught up in petty drama that was never worth caring about anyway.

#####

Hunter didn't know if this was always how elections went, or if Dad's campaign manager was just overzealous and very eager. The election hadn't even been announced yet, and already his mother had pinned "Vote Hollingsworth" buttons on all of their chests whenever there was something in town. It made him feel uncomfortable, having to promote his father in a city-wide environment when he wasn't even eligible to vote. He had no political opinion, no set views or morals, other than he hated having to pull out his light blue dress polo shirt to look "appropriate" for campaign events.

"Who looks dumber," Frankie would ask him in the car, wearing a gingham dress that slightly resembled a tablecloth. "You, or me?"

He would never miss a beat. "You. Definitely you."

His father was already popular enough in town; a current city councillor for their ward, a former political science professor at the U of T, and an oh, so loving father of three beautiful children, the inevitable changeover in the local government was looking great for him in his first run for mayor. As children, Hunter and Frankie knew someday Dad could have all the control over everyone in the whole world, and hopefully get in enough power to ban all homework forever. Now at the mature age of thirteen, they were over it, especially now that they had to be involved in everything all the time.

He had to admit, however, it could at least be a decent talking point for the students at the new school. Comics and games were okay to discuss at home, Frankie would tell him, but at school he had to find something new. That was always his weak point. How was he supposed to know what to talk about? He knew nothing about sports, and definitely nothing about Top-40 pop culture. Maybe the prospect of his father ruling the biggest city in the country would be an easy ice breaker.

Or he could just hang around Frankie. He knew she didn't like it that much when she was around her other friends, but she was always nice about it.

#####

Miles hated the window seat on planes. He never understood the appeal of watching the world below him shrink to nothingness; he knew everything was still there, even if he couldn't see it. Nothing really changed, but if the perception was enough to make people happy, he'd gladly change seats with them so they could pretend they were high and powerful for a moment.

His father made the arrangements to send him to Paris. After a campaign announcement gone completely wrong, the Degrassi-Carnot summer exchange program added a few last-minute students to their trip – along with a persuading sum of money. Despite not actually causing the incident, as Miles had insisted time and time again, he was beyond thrilled to get out of that house, and across an ocean was just a bonus. He already knew the language, thanks to an eventful year at Collège Vaudeville à Sherbrooke, Quebec, and most of the schoolwork simply needed a quick Google search to complete. No, the real vacation came from the new faces, the new potential hook-ups. He had his doubts about this public school life, but now he felt he could get used to this.

The trip was only a month long, but he managed to get pretty far. To be fair, one was unexpectedly imposed on him, and he was surprised that it wasn't half bad. The main conquest may have ended a complete disaster, but hell, if it wasn't fun while it lasted. She had enough experience on her behalf to make it pleasurable though still innocent enough for room to improve; one thing's for certain, the technique in her handjobs certainly improved. Sure, he'd had better, but definitely worse.

He lost his virginity almost a year ago after the first week at Vaudeville. She was also a freshman, and she provided the alcohol that made it happen. They both got their first strikes on their records when they were caught in her room. His father gave him a very serious discussion about the importance of a clean image when he came home for Christmas, and though he would never forget it, it just kept him going back for more trouble, hence the little arson accident that incited his expulsion.

Sometimes he wished he could've waited it out longer to set something on fire, but it wouldn't have been his school.

#####

"Do you realise what a terrible burden you are placing on the entire family name?"

"Sorry I'm not such a stick in the mud like the rest of you."

"The mud's where you belong, you ungrateful piece of shit."

A bump from below. One of Miles' bags probably hit a wall.

It was well after midnight when he came home. Hunter was still awake in his room, patience long-disappeared from retrying a particularly difficult video game mission. He wasn't sure what his dad and brother already had to fight about as they walked in the door, but he knew it was just a teaser as to what would be the rest of the summer.

His player died for the fifty-third time. Tossing the controller aside in defeat, he slid forward to his game shelf, putting the case on the top of his to-play-with-Frankie pile. Hopefully when she came back from whoever's house she was at this time, she'd be better at it than he was. Her spot on the couch was left empty, unless Hunter crashed there at the end of the day when he was too lazy to move all the way to his bed.

Though he spent a lot of his days alone now without Frankie, he didn't find himself becoming very lonely. He could game multiplayer online at any time, but even solo he could imagine himself as something greater. He wasn't athletic for shit; unlike Miles the basketball star and Frankie the dancer, one minute of exerted energy would equate to a solid hour of recovery. He'd probably never use athletic prowess anyway, but it could spare him the embarrassment if he ever got picked on and needed a quick getaway. He could also make allies in games; in real life, he'd be too scared to trust them. People always have ulterior motives, and life never has a reset button when they stab you in the back. And of course there was always the customise-your-character option before it even began; he hated his crooked teeth and his spidery fingers and twiggy body. So often he was told it was just an "awkward stage" but he felt he would never grow out of it. A few days before, Frankie asked their mother to go buy her some makeup. At least girls could cover up all their problems and nobody would notice.

Reaching up at random, he pulled any game off his shelf, not caring what world he'd visit to zone out of reality for a few hours until he'd pass out in Frankie's spot on the couch.

#####

Seventeen days to go.

Hunter hadn't even tried to adjust his sleep schedule yet. He'd wake up around noon, sit on the couch until dinner, where he'd join the family in his pajamas, and shower quickly just to return to the couch until he'd fall asleep again. If there was any campaign stuff, he'd toss it in wherever it needed to be. Days weren't too long nor too short – they simply existed in a world outside of his knowledge.

Frankie already knew what she was going to wear, which Hunter thought was ridiculous. They're _clothes_. They have no indication of who you are as a person, and Frankie was cool enough to get by with personality. Plus, the top she was planning on wearing really showed off that she had boobs and he felt weird about that because it was his sister. If anyone should worry about trying to fit in, Hunter knew it should be him, but it didn't matter. As long as he didn't show up to school naked, he didn't care.

He and Frankie only shared one class in the upcoming semester, second period Geography, which meant he could only rely on her for one set of notes. Other than that, he would be forced to actually pay attention if he wanted to pass. School was never his thing, but it was definitely his parents' thing. You get good grades or you face the consequences. He'd seen it happen with Miles, though the difference between them was that Miles just didn't even try anymore. Hunter cared enough to avoid punishment and nothing further than that.

#####

The Alabaster Shield was Arlene's favourite superhero, though she technically preferred his sidekick Gleamia the most. Without her, there would be no story, no resolution, and yet no villain all at once. The complexity surrounding the whole situation was both intriguing and exhilarating.

As part of his master's degree program, genius student Luca Saldivar set to discover the connection between the magnetic forces of the earth and the complexity of human empathy. He and his test partners, the beautiful Amanda Melo and the devious Benjamin Pinnock, traveled all over the world as part of their research, though one of their final experimentations had gone horribly wrong: their study apparatus had not adjusted to the magnetic fields of Madrid and instead projected its powers upon the students. Instead of the machine being able to manipulate both emotion and magnetism, the three of them carried this power at will.

Pinnock chose to use his newfound supremacies for the acts of evil and manipulation: he could steal coins of any value with the magnetic attraction, giving him infinite funds, and could persuade anyone he so desired to fall in love with him. Saldivar and Melo, now the Shield and Gleamia, saw this as a threat, as the desire of power can only grow and develop into something more truly conniving. The two teamed up, attempting to find a way to use their powers to end Pinnock's inevitable dictated rule of the world. The only problem being, one of the women Pinnock could control was Gleamia herself.

The whole story is a back-and-forth between intense action and believable character development, studying the underlines of moral empathy and free will as well as breaking free from unscrupulous bonds. And Arlene had read almost every issue cover-to-cover multiple times.

It was Michelle who first showed her _The Alabaster Shield _series, though she had done so indirectly. Her father was the former owner of a comic book store and gave her extra copies lying around. When Michelle reached the end of her comic phase, she tossed them all in a box and brought them over one Christmas. Because _Shield_ so happened to be on the top of the box at random, Arlene assumed that she was to read that series first, and she was not disappointed.

She hoped that some other girl in high school would also like comic books. She had tried with a few guys in elementary school, but they accused her of being a fake nerd girl and wouldn't talk to her. It didn't matter to her at all that they saw her as nerdy; it made her mad that they thought she was doing it for attention. And though yes, she was looking for some type of attention, she would never go as far as to fake her way to deserve it. All she really wanted was a friend who paid attention to her reactions to _Shield_, rather than Michelle's exhausted comments of "Yeah, I know, I read it four years ago."

#####

Four days to go.

Miles arguing with Dad outside the window, defending himself over something stupid and reckless he did the night before. Frankie arguing with Mom out in the hall, insisting that she wasn't wearing too much makeup for a thirteen year old girl. Hunter laying on Frankie's spot of the couch, too tired to even try that undefeated level for the millionth time. He just let his family's irritated voices fill his mind over the constant questioning of "is school going to be okay next week?"

#####

Alabaster and Gleamia were never romantic with one another. They were purely platonic, and nothing more than the truest of friends. He'd do anything to protect Gleamia from Pinnock's manipulative control and she would do anything to aid him as much as possible in his quest to end Pinnock's domineering devices.

Arlene appreciated their lack of romance, because it proved to her that maybe the truest kind of love came from friendship. The one where you'd do anything to let them know the world is in their control, to help them out of the tough times and to share a laugh with forever and ever.

Maybe tomorrow she would meet that kind of friend at lunch, or in the hallways, or maybe even in class when they're supposed to be doing work. Someday she'd have the friendship like Alabaster and Gleamia, because no super powers are required for that.

#####

Eight hours to go.

Hunter didn't know why he heard them fighting at this hour, but it was too loud for him to go to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Note from authors<strong>: Hi everyone! Thanks for reading the first chapter of Escape Artist! We can't wait for you to see the moment when Hunter and Arlene meet for the first time, and then everything that follows! Stay tuned for more :)


	2. Chapter 2

Between the nerves, lack of sleep and even more nerves, Hunter felt like he was going to throw up. It was the first time in weeks he had fallen asleep in his bed, and the weight of the blankets made him way too hot and sweaty when it was too late to shower. He hated the cold, but hated the heat even more. Summer was always too disgustingly hot for him to handle.

He first saw Frankie at the breakfast table. Fully dressed, hair styled and cheeks covered in cosmetic blush, her painted nails picked at an orange peel.

She didn't acknowledge him, so Hunter made the first move. "You ready for school?"

She nodded, not taking her attention away from her peel.

Hunter reached for a box of Froot Loops from the cabinet, now tall enough to attain it without standing on tiptoe. Knowing that breakfast was going to be a silent affair, he tried to get all the information he needed as soon as possible. "So we're walking from Geo to the caf?"

"Sure."

"And then Miles will meet us up at our locker at the end of the day," he said to himself, rehearsing his plan for the day that he'd planned in his mind over and over again. The family had already gotten a tour of the school, and his memory could serve enough to get him to his locker and at least some of his classes. Hunter had pretty good retention if he felt it was necessary, and making it around the school without getting killed on the first day was necessary.

His first class of the day was French, and he was scared for it. He never had that year in Sherbrooke like Miles did at Vaudeville. What if the teacher was the kind of instructor that didn't speak English at all, leaving everyone to fend for themselves with whatever they learned the years prior? Surely the public school system had to be a lot less strict than the type of education they were used to, but what if it really wasn't? He didn't want to make his parents upset. It was hard enough to live in the same house as Miles' drama all the time without being involved.

#####

The auditorium was overwhelming. Students from all grades were ushered into the room for a start of year assembly. It seemed to be a little too much for everyone, with staff members leaving the whole rally to the student government who still had a few kinks to sort through. (The president totally wiped out on the stage – it was both funny and a huge mess. The teachers only hoped it wasn't the start to a bad year.)

Arlene took a seat on the end, next to some girl with red hair. They smiled at one another out of courtesy, but she knew this was as far as it would go. Regardless, it made her feel more comfortable about this crazy new environment. Even though it would only be a matter of time before the kids knew she was different and there wouldn't be any more first-day smiles in her direction.

#####

The first day of school is always too easy. Teachers would go over their course objectives and probably do some activity that vaguely resembles the general topic of the class. Homework would be assigned (review the objectives for the semester) and then you get out of there.

Hunter felt safer, though it was never the schoolwork that really worried him; it was the social aspect. Luckily, he was forced into two alphabetical seating plans, so there was no pressure to find a friend instantly. Some girl named Lauren was his partner in French, but he knew that she would get annoying fast.

It wasn't until he saw the sharp pencil line jarring through his sketch that he noticed that jab at his arm was from her elbow. Connecting the pieces from her open expression and her raised eyebrows, he understood that she had asked him a question. He turned his attention towards her. "What?"

"Do you have to, like, only speak French in this class?"

"I don't know, it's my first day too."

She had braces with blue elastics. The only thing Hunter hated more than his teeth was the thought of how bad his teeth would appear in braces. She continued. "I asked the teacher but I didn't get what she said. I thought you'd know."

"I'm not paying attention," he responded, returning his focus to the weapon he drew in his sketchbook – now with an irritating interference scratched across the page.

"Well, you should, because I don't know how to translate for you when you need it."

His pencil returned to the page, working with a mind of its own as it created a shadow. Hunter's own mind was in a far more agitated mood. "Well did the teacher answer you in French? Because that might answer your question."

He could practically feel the eye roll she was giving him. They didn't speak for the rest of the class.

Geography was a different story. He sat next to Frankie, who still had that first day eagerness blocking everything else from her concentration, including Hunter. She was listening attentively, staring straight at the board ahead of her and not even breaking a smile when Hunter attempted to make a joke about one of the Canadian capital cities. It was as though he were invisible to her. To be fair, she had ignored everyone else in that class in favour of the lesson, but the intensity had him wondering if anything was wrong.

When the bell rang to free them, he followed her through the busy hallways (_so_ many kids, it was overwhelming) into the cafeteria line where Keisha was waiting. She had been Frankie's best friend since Grade 4 when she moved a few streets over. Hunter never liked her, mainly because she just was into girly things like dance and nail polish and whatever crap was popular these days. She never liked video games – mainly because she had never tried them – and she thought comics were "geeky", no matter how many times Frankie told her not to call it that.

And the worst part about her was that she would never, ever shut up about any of it. Not even for a second. And when nobody would respond to her, she would keep going until someone did.

"So yeah, I got this dress at Forever 21 and my sister got me these shoes for my birthday. I really wish she'd gotten them in blue, though –"

_Wow, ungrateful much?_ thought Hunter.

"I feel it's too bland without a colour pop. Anyways, do you have Mr. Townsend for English? I have him first period and I totally didn't know he was British. Oh my god, his _accent_ –"

_British accents aren't anything special._

"Is it legal to marry a teacher, because I'm _so_ in for that. Hey, did you hear about the student senate president? Apparently his brother just died, like, a month ago. That's got to suck –"

Hunter didn't like death. He was lucky in life to have avoided a major loss, but he knew enough to decide he didn't believe in the idea of funerals or coming together to celebrate lives or whatever. You didn't celebrate their lives yesterday when they were alive; it all seemed fake and contrived.

"Oh hey, I met some girls in class we can sit with at lunch. They're super cool."

Frankie finally broke her silence in a type of mumble. It was incomprehensible, but he saw a jerk of her head in his direction and heard the sound of his name.

Keisha somehow understood. "He can come too," she said, as though he weren't even here. "The caf's big enough, he can sit at the end."

"I'm right here," Hunter thought aloud, though neither of them seemed to acknowledge it. Instead of trying to keep up with their conversation, he pulled up his phone and checked his emails; Realm of Doom was supposed to have a server update like three weeks ago, maybe they finally got around to it.

By the time the school wi-fi worked well enough to open the app, Keisha and Frankie were already rushing towards a table in particular. Hunter sped up along, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He didn't want to be forgotten and lost on his first day of school.

There were six other girls at a round table, all looking like the exact type of people Keisha would have as friends. They all wore either dresses or skinny jeans that made their bodies look a lot more grown up than they were. Their lips were covered in lipstick or lip gloss or whatever the difference was, and their eyelashes were probably long enough to reach their eyebrows. Hunter thought they literally looked ridiculous.

Only two chairs were left empty. Frankie gave Hunter a split-second look before sitting in one of them herself. They were one chair short, and there was definitely not enough room to have one more sit down. He wasn't stupid. It was obvious that they didn't know that there would be another one joining them.

In the meantime, he pulled over a chair from another table and sat it close enough behind Frankie. Setting his tray on his lap, he stared at the triangle-cut sandwiches, wondering if tomorrow they would choose a bigger table so he could fit in. Even when they're just a bunch of dumb attention whores, it's better than being forced to sit alone at lunch.

#####

Arlene's favourite class after the first two days had to be her gym class. Though they didn't actually get to do anything physical, they had an overview of the types of activities they would get to do through the year. A whole ton of sports, access to the weight room, a personal exercise plan as the semester project, she thought it was a perfect combination. She always appreciated athleticism. It created a perfect balance for when she wasn't crammed indoors with a comic book in her hands.

Her teacher's name was Mr. Armstrong. He was kind, but made it clear that this wasn't wholly a bird course. If you wanted to succeed, you had to put in effort, and more importantly, you had to show improvement. The course was aimed at personal goals and reaching them throughout the semester. She couldn't wait to challenge herself, and he gave her the perfect idea to make it happen.

Football. Basketball. Volleyball. There were a variety of sports teams at the school to choose from, but the one that stood out to Arlene was the cheerleading squad. It wasn't exactly her area of expertise, but it had to mix in with dance and a form of choreography, right? It would involve effort and improvement could come along the way. Plus, she'd get to make plenty of new friends who also liked the same things as her. The year was already hers, and the opportunities were endless.

#####

Fuck gym class. Fuck everything, but especially fuck gym class.

Standing in front of Frankie's locker at the end of the first week, Hunter had reached his limit of the amount of stupidity he could handle. Had he known that the Grade 9 gym class was for both guys and _girls _co-ed, he would've spared himself half the embarrassment and taken the course the next year. Proving you're a complete wimp when it comes to sports is humiliating enough when it's just in front of other dudes; some guys were just like that. But now you bring girls in the picture and it's so much worse. They'll take it outside of the gymnasium. They'll make it their entire lives to humiliate you for being skinny and awkward and just completely weird.

When they were younger, Keisha and Frankie would always make obstacle courses out of yard toys. Sometimes they convinced him and Miles to join in, though it would only last a few minutes; Miles would just be bored of their childish games and Hunter knew he was awful and became discouraged. Since then, he hadn't voluntarily attempted any sort of athletic activity, especially not in front of Frankie's (female) friends.

Frankie's locker was already decorated with a poster of Harry Styles cut out from some tweenage magazine. It was held up by the corner magnet of a locker mirror, in which she was inspecting her hair. Why it had to look flawless for the end of the day, Hunter certainly didn't know. She appeared to be checking every last curl in her ponytail to make sure it was in its place.

He was grateful he wasn't a girl.

Hunter didn't even try to talk to her anymore. Ever since that first morning before school, it was like a barrier went over her ears and blocked out everything he said. She had started to warm up in other classes, talking to other new students and such, but her moodiness did not retract when it came to her brother. He knew it was just a matter of time, that she was simply adjusting to a new situation and she'd be her same quirky self in no time at all.

Suddenly, she slammed her locker with a flourish. Hoisting a bright pink gym bag over her shoulder, she headed off to the right – a.k.a., the opposite direction of the parking lot.

"Franks?" Hunter asked, following her walking away. "Miles is meeting us out there."

"I have cheer tryouts today," she sighed in exasperation. As if she expected him to know that. It's not like she ever told him anything anymore anyway.

He tried to reassemble his thoughts, following behind her as she still headed further and further away. "Does Miles know?"

"Duh, that's why he got a ride home with Chewy's mom today."

This threw him off. "Wait, so how do I get home?"

She turned around with a flourish. "You don't!" Her voice was louder and sharper than Hunter had heard it in a long time. "You find somewhere in the school to hang out and Dad'll pick us up at five."

A few people stared. Frankie must've noticed, because she flipped back forward and sped ahead without any further word, leaving him in the middle of the hallway wondering what happened.

#####

On the third after-school cheerleading squad tryout, it became apparent to Arlene that this was the sport for her. A senior girl with a warm smile was the coordinator, teaching the prospective dancers the basic routines and seeing how well they could handle the choreography. It was too early to tell whether she would make the team (there were a lot of other talented girls out there), but either way she was having fun experiencing the whole process.

She had recognised some of the girls from her other classes; there was a girl with bright pink dyed hair from math at the end of the day. Arlene couldn't remember her name, but she remembered her personality, and she had much more focus on the boys around her than to the lessons themselves. There was also a girl from morning science class with pretty brown eyes but she wore too much makeup for them to properly stand out. Every night after practice she'd find her in one of the computer labs leaving with some guy. And then, of course, there was Shay. Shay was in her gym class, and made it clear on the first day to Mr. Armstrong that she was trying out for each and every team the school had to offer. It was very overreaching, but she was determined. She wouldn't even hear "no" as an option, let alone take it for an answer.

Halfway between the tryouts, the coordinator would give them all a ten minute break. On the first few nights, she tried getting to know Shay better, even trying to open an opportunity to learn some of the other girls' names. It hardly worked; the other girls had probably known each other in elementary school or something, because they seemed to get along better with one another than they did with her.

On the third night, she decided to go on a walk around the school instead, enjoying some peace and quiet before going back to individual routine tryouts. The school wasn't necessarily too big, but simply different, and Arlene hadn't had the time to adjust to these new surroundings. Every hallway looked the same, though they all led to mysterious new areas of the school. Once, by accident, she found her way to the "Rubber Room Hallway", where the remedial students tended to gather, and a few of the older ones freaked her out. Regardless, there were also many peaceful areas of the school as well; there were beautiful gardens outside where she'd sit at lunch and let the silence of the world refresh her for the second half of the day.

Eight minutes had passed into her walk, but she timed her return slowly – with nobody in the hallways at this time of the evening, she could fully sprint back if she needed to without anyone getting in her way. She instead rehearsed in her mind the routine the coordinator had assigned, somewhat moving her arms as she kept walking to correspond with the action. Turning the final corner before reaching the gym, she peered quickly into the windowed computer lab, where she found all the lights were still on. She saw the boy who always stayed there, donning the black that she always seemed to recognise on him. He was slouched over, intent on one of the computer screens with vivid moving images she saw as all too familiar.

She was already past the lab when the image formed in her mind. Of course, it was the Mage Quarter of Stormwind! Why hadn't she recognised it sooner? The trees and the cobbled buildings were so recognisable. Whoever he was, he was definitely playing Realm of Doom. She had an account on the website herself, and though it wasn't as much of an obsession as her love for _The Alabaster Shield_, she definitely had wasted enough hours in Stormwind City, and if there was someone in that room who played as well, she could have even more fun with it.

The ten minutes had passed. Half-sprinting, half-skipping back to the gym, she decided that she would have to worry about the mysterious Realm of Doom boy at a later time.

#####

Frankie really screwed him over. Chewy's mom could barely fit one extra person in the car home, and he didn't know the quickest route home by heart, so he was stuck alone in a practically-empty school until the dumb tryouts were over.

What was he supposed to do for two hours? Sleep? Nah, nowhere in the school was comfy enough for that. Homework? He could laugh. No, the only logical thing to do at school was the exact thing he would do at home. It's not like he had anything better to do anyway.

He had been playing Realm of Doom for years, though it had been a while since he'd been as involved. The latest expansion was packed away all year in anticipation for his summer gaming sessions with Frankie, and he only had the opportunity to use it for the past few months. It sucked him back in. Every night after school, he'd find himself in front of the computer screen, completing quests and gaining skills late into the night, well past when Miles's snores became audible down the hall. That's when he'd plug in his headphones and let the sound of the game world take over that of the real world. It was a lot more tolerable than home. You could trust more people in the game.

The entire school was empty within ten minutes of the final bell, because who would want to stay in the building after school ended anyway? There'd occasionally be a few cheerleaders roaming the halls, probably heading into the bathroom or something, but none of them would interrupt them. Just the way he liked it. He wouldn't move from his chair until the whole herd of them came down the hall at the end of practice and Frankie would stand at the lab door waiting.

He had gotten used to it. The computer lab wasn't an ideal hideout, but it had an internet connection and was dark enough with all the lights off to escape from the rest of the building. Nothing could beat his bedroom, though. Years of personal development created a fortress so intricate that no other person could replicate its exact specifics. As a kid, he hoped it would someday appear like a hideout in a kind of spy movie. If the bed were a little bit smaller and a lot less comfortable, his room would appear like a practical safe house fit for a secret agent.

He used to want to be a spy. Growing up in a big house gave him the impression that he lived in a place with a lot of secrets. Every rug was inspected, all file folders were scrutinised and every lock had to have a key. He started off exploring with Miles, who was much less discreet about their adventures around the house, meaning Hunter was the one who avoided the punishment. Ever since then, he went on his own, though knew to be much quieter when –

"You're level sixty-seven?"

He jumped and turned around so suddenly that he couldn't even process the words spoken behind him. They came from a girl, they had to; the voice was way too high-pitched to come from a dude. Or maybe it was a dude. Some guys haven't had their voice change yet, even if this was over the top.

His eyes adjusted. No, it was definitely a girl. He saw long, black hair that curved slightly partway, like Frankie's would look if she just took her hair out of a ponytail. She had a toothy smile – wait, why was she smiling? – and the grin raised her cheeks and thinned her slanted eyes. And she looked sweaty, like she was just working out which Hunter thought was insane.

That's when he felt stupid for his sudden reaction.

He didn't say anything, so she continued on. "On Realm of Doom?" She pointed at the screen, clarifying her point. "You're level sixty-seven."

It was too much too fast. How long was she even standing there, watching him play? More importantly, _why_? What the hell does she know about Realm of Doom? No girl on the planet has ever mentioned it before, except Frankie, but Hunter never saw her as specifically a "girl". Not until recently.

"I'm only a forty-two. I'm not as good. I saw you in the Mage Quarter earlier, what mission were you doing?"

He couldn't find his words to answer. Who even is this person again? And what did she need to know about his Realm of Doom life?

"I've seen you play here all the time during practice. Maybe if I don't make the team–"

The door opened, thankfully breaking the awkwardness of this mysterious girl person. Frankie stood there, hair still tied up for tryouts, but instead changed into the pair of grey sweatpants she would wear after any dance thing.

She was apparently as confused as he was. "What are you doing talking to Arlene?"

Huh. So that was her name. She didn't look like much of an Arlene, but then again, she didn't really look like much of anything yet. He was too busy trying to put all the pieces together that someone was actually interested in what he was doing. He forgot what that was like.

Frankie didn't have time for any of this. Maybe she was moving super fast, or maybe Hunter was still too zoned out to comprehend exactly what was happening, but in what seemed like an instant, Frankie had reached out and grabbed his arm. A sudden pull, and he was dragged out of the room, leaving his account open on the computer and the Arlene girl alone in the room. He tried to find the words to say a quick goodbye, but by the time he realised he needed to say it at all, he was already down the hall.

"Could you get any weirder?" He heard Frankie mumble, still pulling on his arm. "I already thought she was ridiculous but clearly _you're_ the ridiculous one for hanging out with her."

His words came naturally again, in a defense. "I wasn't hanging out with her. She just–"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don't make a big fuss out of it when people start picking on you for having whacko friends."

Hunter thought she was being ridiculous. First of all, they weren't "friends"; all they did was talk about Realm of Doom together. Secondly, the Frankie he knew didn't even care about his friends. Most of his friends were mainly hers anyway. And most importantly, why was she being such a bitch? He knew that girls were way different every few weeks, but periods _definitely_ didn't last this long. Or maybe they did. He didn't know and wasn't wanting to find out.

He tried to think about anything else, but all he could focus on was the question of whether or not Arlene had enough sense to log out of his account.

* * *

><p><strong>Note from authors<strong>: Thank you again for reading! We hope to keep updating this story throughout the hiatus, so be on the lookout :)


	3. Chapter 3

The final roster for the Power Cheer team would be posted on the bulletin board by the gym at lunch tomorrow. Frankie had high expectations, and she knew it. She may have not been the best tumbler at the tryouts, but she definitely made sure to have a smile plastered across her face. A cheerleader needed to show spirit and energy, and spread optimism to the entire crowd. At the end of the day, that's what the co-ordinator was looking for.

It was all a part of the plan. Keisha knew her way around the high school social network through her older sister, and the first step was an athletic team. The more feminine the activity, the more power accumulated. They already had an ultimate endgame goal: to run the school as student council co-presidents in their senior year. Every piece of involvement in the school's environment would add up in time for elections. Maybe having a dad in politics wasn't an entirely bad thing after all.

But just as in every campaign, there was always a scandal or two that could make or break you. The first one wasn't a huge priority at the moment, but as time goes on its importance would only increase: boys. Of course she wanted a boyfriend, just as any girl did, but it was also a benefit in her campaign. Your relationship status affected your political status, especially in a social environment like high school. After finding the right guy, you stay with the right guy to show that you have standards but are also committed and determined.

Then you have to have the right friends. Popularity isn't the first factor, but it definitely had its benefits. She and Keisha had already hung out with an actual TV-star. She had to admit, she had never watched the show that the actress came from (_West Drive_? Was that the title?), but she was sophisticated, professional and talented – exactly the kind of people who would benefit in raising her own image. Of course, you'd need a few genuine, true friends, but everyone had their people. It was just how it worked.

And then there was Miles. As long as Frankie could remember, her older brother was a complete hurricane. He always mouthed off to his teachers, smoked pot in the backyard, and in May, he burnt down half of the best boarding school in the country. He messed up her dad's campaign, and he would surely mess up hers too. It had only been two weeks since the year started. So far, all he'd done was join the basketball team, but it was only a matter of time before he'd mess up somehow, reflecting badly on the whole family.

Frankie didn't start her homework until late in the knew it would be a problem if she made the team; with practices and school events added to her schedule, there was less leisure time and more routine in her day-to-day life. Sitting on her bed with her geography textbook open, she twisted her hair up into a bun and glanced at page 48.

Maps. Globes. Spatial data. Graphs. Legends. Symbols. It was all way too easy, nearly exact review of the work she had done in years past. There had to be more to it. Important information was always hidden within the familiar, that way you can relate the new concepts with the ones that were already second nature. It was annoying, but reading through was necessary to keep up.

As soon as she seemed to get into the groove, there was a knock on the door. It had to be Hunter; Mom was out, and Miles and Dad never had any reason to come in anyway. Frankie rolled her eyes. The little crybaby had been following her around like a lost puppy for weeks. She had already spoken to her mother about it; there were certain, unavoidable times when they'd have to hang out, but she didn't have to be around him otherwise if she didn't want to. The only problem was that he wasn't taking the hint. She stayed still, pretending that she was asleep or dead or anything but willing for a nice chat. Silence. She waited for the sound of his footsteps returning to his bedroom, but they never came.

A second knock on the door. "Franks?"

Damn. Realising that he'd probably be out there waiting all night since he has nothing better to do, she decided to just get it over with. She shut her eyes and sighed. "Yeah?"

The door opened as soon as she responded, but she returned her focus to the textbook. She stared at the words, not even really attempting to take any of them in; she just needed to get him out of there without giving him something to be pissed off about.

"Um…" Hunter broke the silence, but Frankie didn't budge. "I just wanted to play _Chronicles_, I was wondering…you know, if you…"

She moved only to breathe. Maps. Globes. Spatial data.

An exasperated sigh. "Look, I don't know what I did wrong, why aren't you talking to me?"

Frankie couldn't hold back any longer. She slammed her book closed, turning her head to face Hunter. He was in pajamas, leaning up against the bedroom wall by the door. He was taller; it had been a while since she had taken a good look at him. His eyebrows were creased in frustration, an emotion which Frankie certainly felt herself. She needed to say something, anything to make him finally understand and get out, but her mind was blank.

He rolled his eyes. "You don't even know, do you?" He ambled forward. "Are you just too busy for me now with your cheerleading and school shit?"

She finally broke. "So what if I am?"

"You can't just leave everything behind. You've been ignoring me all summer too, and you didn't have anything then."

"I was busy with friends," she cracked.

"I'm your friend too."

Frankie's mouth twisted shut before she said something she'd regret. How could she word this right? Maybe it was the silence, or her tense expression, but something changed in Hunter's eyes a few seconds later. They were darker somehow, like he finally understood. He looked away, staring at the walls or the floor or anywhere else in the room but her. She just wanted him to leave without another word and never be in her room again.

"I still don't get it." His voice was also thicker, bleaker. "I haven't changed at all and you're pissed at me."

"That's the point, Hunter," Frankie let out. "You're still acting like we're in middle school and we're supposed to grow up and move on."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." His eyes looked more desperate. His hands were animated as he spoke. "People change all the time, but nobody has to change."

"If you want to hang out at school, you're going to have to change."

"Why?"

"Because you're pathetic!"

She shouted so loud it could have echoed. The muteness rang, stunning the both of them for a moment before either of them could speak. A forever later, she saw that he was ready to talk back. Frankie wouldn't let that happen. She resumed before he could.

"You show up at school in all black and you sit in a corner all day and you go home and play video games all night, and then you wonder why nobody wants to be friends with you. Why don't you get that?"

She saw his jaw clench. He did that whenever he felt any sort of bad emotion. Sadness. Anger. A reality check. Maybe it was harsh, but it had to be said. You can't avoid things with Hunter. He's too stupid to get it.

Frankie gave him a gentle prompt. "Get out of my room."

He didn't move.

A little more stern. "Get out of my room."

"It's my house too."

"You don't see me making a scene in your room, do you?"

He took a step closer to her. God, he was desperate. "You could've," he continued, "had you actually shown up when you were supposed to, you know, to play video games?"

She was done with it all, reopening her book back to page 48. "Well, thank you for the offer," she responded calmly, as if none of this ever happened and she would never see him again, "but I've been too busy, and I will be for a long time. Probably forever."

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

This was the last attempt before she would give in and call for her Dad to kick him out. Frankie gave him the bitchiest stare she could form; she knew it wasn't very strong – she had to work on that. He never met her eyes back. Clinging onto his eyelashes was a layer of tears. She felt awful. She didn't mean to make him sad about it, not in the moment. It was just the only way she could make him understand. Maybe if he weren't such an idiot it would've been an easier discussion, easier for the both of them.

But she couldn't back out now. "Wow. You're going to go cry about it now?" She forced out a semi-believable chuckle. "Grow up, Hunter. Get out."

He finally listened, turning around slowly and dragging his feet as though he thought she would change her mind the longer it took him to leave. As if. One last time, he looked back at her, but as soon as he saw that she was looking at him back, he turned away. He clearly didn't have the courage to fight back while she was still in the game. Another problem with baby Hunter: a coward who couldn't stand up for himself.

She watched the door close shut, and went back to her homework. She didn't feel good, but she didn't feel bad either. She was just there, just existing. A girl who had to let her brother go without an instance of tact. A girl who wasn't going to let things get in the way of the life she wanted. A girl who would make the Power Cheer team tomorrow. A girl who had a geography reading tonight.

Maps. Globes. Spatial data. Graphs. Legends…

#####

All of the cheerleaders were waiting at the bulletin board at the start of lunch for the co-ordinator to post the final team. Arlene was among them, sitting against the wall with her science textbook, looking over the notes from the morning's lesson. Other than the loud and gossipy girls who were also waiting for the results, it was just a regular lunch hour. She knew after the announcement was posted, they would clear out and the hall would fall silent again.

When the co-ordinator appeared coming towards them down the hall, all of the girls swarmed her like bees. Arlene stayed on her spot against the wall, knowing that it wasn't worth pushing and shoving to read her name a moment faster, though the suspense was killing her. She saw a few disappointed faces, but many more expressions of joy. The pink-haired girl from math class was jumping up and down with some friends for about two minutes. Arlene tried to keep count of the number of cuts and the number of successes, wondering what her chances were that she would be on that list.

There were only a few people left around the bulletin board. She stood up, feeling a nervous tingling in her arms that she hadn't anticipated. Every step forward, she knew she had to stay positive. Breathe in, breathe out. No matter what, life goes on.

She skimmed the list, only focusing on the name in front of her if it began with an A or a T. The list wasn't all that long. With every extra line she scanned, her stomach dropped further and further. Even if life were to go on, there would be a lot of disappointment along the way.

Oh my gosh.

_Arlene Takahashi_

She wanted to jump up and down just as the other girl did, but she knew she wasn't in the social status to make a fool of herself like that. No, she had to stay calm. Only let her smile take over her face and nothing more.

But she was just so happy!

She made a team that would open so many opportunities for friendships and memories, some that might even last forever. The world was floating under her feet and she was flying. Michelle and Chloe would definitely be getting a phone call tonight.

#####

Power Cheer practices would already begin that night. It was a drag that they had to start so soon, but Arlene was just as excited. Every time she would pass the bulletin board on her way to classes, she'd almost skip down the rest of the hallway. She knew she had gotten some stares, but she didn't care. It wasn't going to matter at the end of it all. As long as she was happy, she could do whatever she wanted.

The newly-appointed cheer captain had extremely high hopes for the team. Her focus wasn't on the idea of dance and routine so much as achieving victory in cheerleading competitions. One of the girls tried to complain, but the captain was very clear that her goals would not be changing; they would be winning, and they would be the best.

The practice was long and tiring, but rewarding. Arlene didn't mind the idea of working hard, even with the pressure the captain was placing on them. Dance was meant to be challenging, to push yourself to new limits and to express emotion into art. Power Cheer was no different; it just had a few extra backflips.

Her energy was boundless. Maybe it was the complete joy of making the team, because the complaining girl from practice was in the change-room whining about her exhaustion. Arlene had a decent walk home from school waiting for her, but she felt like she could run the whole way home. No, she'd skip home. She was excited and she didn't want to hide any part of it.

She opened the door with a bright smile on her face and smacked straight into something tall.

She stumbled back, though she quickly reclaimed her steadiness as she adjusted to what knocked her off her balance. Her first sense was blackness, a blackness that moved. A blackness that talked.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry."

It obviously was a person, and from the low tone of their voice, it was likely a boy. Arlene said her own quick apologies, sans the cursing, and attempted to make out other details of the boy she ran into. Hopefully he would understand that she was just so excited.

He wore a black shirt, black pants, even black shoes. Well, she thought, that definitely explains the sense of blackness. Something registered in her mind; he was familiar, but she didn't know how. It wasn't the voice. It wasn't his hair (simple, ordinary brown). She had to check for the eyes. Her obaasan always said that the eyes were the way to memory. People can cut their hair, change their clothes, put on a charade, but at the end of the day their eyes would always reflect the way you know them.

They were blue, and wide-eyed as though he just experienced a great surprise. That part was obvious, of course. He just got slammed over by some random girl. But the way they were wide-eyed stood out. They looked too alarmed, shocked, like they were normally in a dread, like not much had stood out to him in a long time. The exact expression she saw when she accidentally scared the…

"Realm of Doom Guy," she said out loud in acknowledgment. She didn't know much of where it was going, but she felt the need to say that she knew who he was. Maybe he recognised her too.

He scratched his head, almost turning away. "Yeah…" He sounded embarrassed, but a half smile appeared in a sort of grimace. He had to have remembered who she was.

A formal introduction was needed. "I'm Arlene."

"Yeah, I know, my sister said your name the other day."

She thought back, trying to remember the conversation in the computer lab after Pretty Brown Eyes had arrived. Realm of Doom Guy interrupted this thought by continuing on, a shock considering his total silence the last time they spoke.

"I was just waiting for her now, actually." He pointed at the gym doors.

"I saw her in there," Arlene added. "She's really good. She smiles a lot when she's performing."

An eye roll – did she upset him? He let out a small, breathy laugh. "Sounds like Frankie all right."

The doors opened, and the rest of her team filed out as a group. She and Realm of Doom Guy stepped back to give them room to pass by. He looked distressed, even angry. Something just wasn't right, and she felt it was her fault.

"Hunter!"

Now that was a voice Arlene could recognise. That was definitely Pretty Brown Eyes, a.k.a. Frankie, a.k.a. Realm of Doom Guy's sister. It came from the group somewhere. After a moment, she saw Frankie sneak off to the side, staring in her direction.

"Hunter, I'm not waiting for you."

Realm of Doom Guy breathed out a sigh. He glanced back at her for a split second – enough to give her an expression that read as a goodbye – and went off to join her. Arlene said her farewells aloud, but only Frankie looked back and acknowledged her with a kind of irritated glare.

She had the feeling Frankie didn't like her very much, but it wasn't something she would worry about. One person wasn't going to make or break her entire life. Her goal was to be nice to everyone, even those people who weren't nice back. The next time she saw Realm of Doom Guy, or as he's now known, Hunter, she would say hi to him. And the next time she saw Shay the athletic superstar, she would say hi to her as well. Life was too short to hurt people. You could make or break someone's whole day with just a smile, whether they wanted to be your friend or not.

#####

Hunter could've sworn that he was actually blind. Maybe it was the fact that he hated that class even more than Frankie hated him, or he was just too stupid to have made the connection before. Either way, Arlene was in his gym class.

In all fairness, the girls and boys tended to split down the middle of the gym, only interacting when Armstrong forced them all to group back to listen to his next stupid order or instruction. At that point, he'd always zone out completely because fuck gym class, but apparently she had been there all along, sitting over on the girls' side of the class with her hair up in a ponytail. She fit in the class just as any other girl did, but he couldn't remember the other girls' names. Actually, he couldn't remember most of the guy's names either. He'd do nothing more than show up and half-ass the work every day from 12:10 to 1:25.

But back to Arlene. She was just so joyful, but with an almost terrifying intensity that he didn't know how to handle. Maybe psychotic would be a better word, or a mix of both, because he was just so fascinated. He found someone who actually played Realm of Doom, but they were a _girl_, who also did girly things like cheerleading and stuff.

After a few days of thinking it over, it dawned on him why he wanted to be her friend so much: she was literally Frankie.

Well, old Frankie.

It was actually crazy how positive she was, all things considered; he had heard his sister make comments in the car on the way home. Arlene wasn't exactly the most popular girl on the squad, and the other cheerleaders didn't try to hide that. He had only seen her three times before, but all three times were wrapped with a huge smile across her face. He had wondered if it was fake, and it wouldn't surprise him if it was, had she not waved at him in the hallway a few hours earlier. It was really weird, but it was better than nothing.

Hunter could get through a whole day of school without talking to anybody at all, seam into family dinner with awkward small talk, and finish the night by replaying old video games, still saving as many new ones as he can if Frankie ever decided to come back. He was okay with being on his own, but it hurt more and more to think that he wasn't even wanted anymore. The few times he tried to reach out ended up terribly, with tear stains on his cheeks into the next morning, and his mind in a lethargic trance to forget how he was hurt into the afternoon. He had never felt lonelier in his entire life.

So he just decided to stop trying with anyone at all.

At the end of class that day, Armstrong had everyone partner up for recording fitness test shit throughout the week. He looked around, watching the students automatically pairing up with their best friends, or a girl taking a risky move and heading to the boy side to meet up with the hot guy or whatever. Every time he made eye contact with someone, they would already have partners, even if it was just the random beside them. At last he stumbled over to the only other person who looked lonely, looking down to avoid looking them right in the eye. He didn't hear their shoes step away on the shiny gym floor or see their shadow vanish from sight. It was embarrassing that he was so desperate to find someone, anyone. Maybe Frankie was right. He definitely looked pathetic.

When the bell let them out, he shuffled from the gym with his head still sinking. He saw her ponytail swinging in his peripheral vision.

#####

Hunter Realm of Doom Guy was in two of her classes. The first was in her favourite class, fourth period gym. Starting tomorrow, the two of them were general fitness assessment partners. Sure, they were partners by default, but at least she had someone she knew to make it less awkward.

The second class was math right afterwards, though she hadn't noticed until that day. He was a few rows up and over from her, and she didn't recognise him before because all she saw was his back. During the lessons, when she understood enough material to lose focus for a moment, she'd glance over at his seat. He was arched over the entire time, like he was writing something non-stop. She didn't think he looked up once the whole lesson. He was in his own little world, and though class wasn't the place for it, she thought it was interesting how he could escape like that. Lucky, even.

It wasn't until the end of the class, while packing away his notebook, that she saw Hunter Realm of Doom Guy notice her from the other side of the room. His expression wasn't the most welcoming, almost a look of bewilderment, but that was better than avoiding eye contact and turning to the kid next to him as if she were the joke of the hour. After a moment, she gave him a quick smile, almost as a thank you for not being a jerk.

That was the first time she got to look him in the eye all day.

#####

"Do you want me to go first, or…"

"Yeah, you can go, doesn't matter to me."

Gym class usually sucked, but this one sucked more than usual. At the start of the class, everyone was talking to their partners as though they had been best friends for a thousand years. Hunter, on the other hand, didn't have any clue as to what he was supposed to say. He barely knew Arlene, and he wasn't sure if Realm of Doom talk was appropriate at the time. Maybe afterwards, once they got all the physical shit out of the way.

She clearly didn't know what to say either. It was just weird.

The first task of the generalised fitness torture test was recording the number of sit ups you could do in a minute. By the end of the semester, you're supposed to be able to do more because that's what gym class is apparently supposed to do. All Hunter saw the class as a way to serve as some bullshit mandatory credit you scrape by and forget about forever.

Arlene held the timer and the clipboard as Hunter got to the floor, ready to mime everyone else around him and get the test done as soon as possible. He felt uncomfortable, having someone over him judging his absence of athletic ability. These sit ups alone would have him waking up with muscle aches tomorrow. He tried to think positive – at least he paired up with a girl and not one of the other guys. That would've made him look like far worse of an embarrassment.

Hands behind his head, he was ready for hell to begin. "All right, tell me when."

#####

Arlene didn't expect him to be an athletic superstar or anything, but when she saw Hunter Realm of Doom Guy actually lay flat on the ground forty-five seconds in, she had to hold back a smile so he wouldn't notice. He was so dramatic about it, surrendering with his arms outstretched as though he were wounded in battle. It was the most expression she had ever seen out of him, and at least he trusted her enough to just be himself around her.

Even if his himself couldn't even last a minute of physical activity before acting like the apocalypse was upon him.

#####

"Time's up!"

God, she was so chipper.

Hunter hated everything in the universe which had led him to this moment. He vowed from this moment he wouldn't ever move anywhere again. Arlene would have to carry him into a wheelchair and then he'd have to be pushed around but at least he'd never have to do another fucking sit up again.

He was too exhausted-slash-lazy to tilt his head toward hers. "How many?"

"Twenty-three."

He didn't know if that was good or bad. He tried to do the math in his head: twenty goes into sixty three times therefore about one sit up every three seconds but that's not including the twenty or so seconds where he did nothing so really it was into forty instead of sixty so that means who even cares math is stupid anyways never mind.

Hunter still felt like he was dying on the gym floor. The last thing he'd ever see were the rafters on the ceiling, which was a pretty ugly last sight. He closed his eyes, and decided his last words should at least be in decent humour.

"I'm a tank."

Her sharp laugh forced his eyes back open to face the stupid ceiling. It was far more than a giggle, though it sounded lighthearted and simple. What word would describe it? In The Alabaster Shield, they used some fancy term for when they'd deploy someone into being overly bubbly and excitable…effervescent. That was the word. Arlene had a very effervescent laugh.

He didn't think his joke was that funny, but hey, someone got the point of it. Rolling himself over until his body somewhat landed in a sitting position, Hunter sighed with a half-smile, at least acknowledging that he was pitiful. "Just write down thirty-five."

"That would be cheating."

"Well, yeah, how else am I gonna pass the class?"

The effervescent laugh again. "All right." She passed him the clipboard and timer. "Whatever you say."

His arms hurt. He didn't even do anything with them, how did they hurt? As Arlene went into the position to do her own sit ups, he double checked the number. Thirty-five. Good.

The timer set at zero, Hunter gave her a nod as a ready signal.

"Countdown."

He wrinkled his expressions. "What?"

"Give me a countdown."

She was really strange. "Okay, um…" Did she want him to start at three? What if she wanted one from a hundred or something? Whatever, just go with the norm. "Three?" She nodded. "Two, one, go."

Hunter felt like he was watching a video on fast motion, because it was humanly impossible to be moving as fast as she was. She was like a bullet, or a cheetah, or anything else that was super fast because he couldn't even think.

And then she was still going. He had to check the timer, just to double check that his brain was processing speed properly. Fourteen seconds. Fifteen seconds. Sixteen.

"Holy fuck." He didn't know if he said that or just thought it in his head, but that didn't matter. Every time she curled back up for another, he was more and more in disbelief. He got his ass canned by a _girl_.

A few times he'd just stare and forget what he was doing, because she was solid proof that he was the least-athletic human being ever in the universe, then suddenly remember he was supposed to be watching the clock and return his focus back to the timer. She was nuts.

Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine. A minute.

"Time," he called. She didn't even look tired. "How the hell do you do that?"

She smiled – how could someone be smiley after _that_? "Practice. I have to do them at dance."

Oh great. Dance. Hunter's favourite subject. Luckily, she didn't feel the need to dwell. "Anyway," she sprang up, moving over to where he was still seated, "how many was that?"

He was supposed to count. Crap. "Uh, fifty."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he deceived, scratching in a five-zero near the top of the chart; the top of a very, very long chart. He had no problem showing his distaste, in both expression and the loud whiny groan he let out. "How about we just write down thirty-five for everything?"

Arlene looked at the chart over his shoulder. "A grand thirty-five centimetres for standing long jump? Pretty impressive."

He rolled his eyes, but threw on a tight half-smile to make sure she knew that he didn't hate her. It was the most anyone had talked to him in weeks. He liked that. "All right fine, I bullshit it as much as I can, you round up to something more reasonable."

"Or, you could actually try, and I won't have to round up anything."

"Yeah, I am going to actually try, but it'll be so bad it'll look like bullshit."

She laughed again. "Okay there, Hunter." And without warning, he felt her lift him from under his arms and attempted to place him in some sort of standing position. He stumbled as he stood; he was way taller than her, so at the end she sort of pushed him up as a last effort. As he tried to figure out where his feet were and if he were even on the ground, she had already picked up the supplies he dropped. "Ready for push ups?"

"Absolutely not." But she was already on her way to the next station.

He thought she was weird, but weird was better than nothing. Weird also played Realm of Doom. Maybe she'd be less weird online than she was in gym class.

He also didn't remember when he even told her his name, but that saved him from an awkward belated introduction later.

#####

The cafeteria always served vegetables on Wednesdays. Hunter loaded his plate with corn and peas, knowing that it definitely wouldn't be enough to hold him over until he got home. His mother made his lunches when he was younger. She was a decent enough cook, if she had the opportunity to do it. Of course, this hospitality ended the second the twins were shipped off into high school, just as a lot of other things did in that house.

He sat as far away from Frankie's table as possible. She didn't have to ask him to switch seats; after their argument that awful night, he took the hint and avoided her in the cafeteria the next day. There were only a few empty tables in the back corner. He's had one all to himself every lunch hour since.

Hunter sat down. He took a bite. The vegetables were cold.

He put on his headphones, letting all the sound wash away into muffled jabber in the far distance. No music was necessary; all he needed was the emptiness to travel from his ears to his mind and then he'd be able to escape.

Some lunches, however, he was in the mood for music. He had very few songs on his phone, but he didn't need a wide variety to entertain him. The ones he loved, he loved for a reason: they weren't just beat-deep. There were was always some sort of mystery lying underneath it all. Hunter didn't understand any of these hidden meanings, but he knew they were there. He just had to crack the code to get there. But he wasn't up to that today.

He let his vision blur and his thoughts mellow. There were colours in front of him, but he didn't care to think of their importance. There were memories of that one lunch in Grade Six where Frankie poured Mom's famous chicken noodle soup all over this one girl's uniform who was making fun of him, but he pushed that all aside; it's not like that would ever happen again. (She got a demerit on her record as well as a detention. It was the only time Frankie had ever gotten in trouble at school.)

He tried forcing another bite, but it was all cold and mushy. That's when the colours in the corner of his eye were changing. He ignored them momentarily, picking at his food with the tip of his fork, but then the colours moved central.

Arlene was standing on the other side of the table, pulling out the chair to sit down.

Maybe the colours on the wall had gotten to him. He blinked. She was definitely really there.

He blinked again.

She was seated in front of him, opening a lunch bag that her mother probably packed. He couldn't help himself from laughing at all the containers she pulled out, considering she was so tiny that you'd think she hadn't eaten for years.

Hunter had no idea what to do next. Was he just supposed to say hello? Or did he have to make a whole friendship level-up speech celebrating that they were now lunch friends? He didn't have to trade lunches with her, did he? No, he would let her talk first. She'd set it up.

Silence.

Her hair was down today, but it wasn't a perfect masterpiece like Frankie worked on hers to be. She didn't wear any makeup either, or at least not from what he could tell. She was just really natural, and it made her look a lot younger than everyone else in this school. It didn't match. He felt awkward staring so he took off his headphones, only now remembering they were still on.

Her eyes peered up – oh fuck. Busted. No, he was safe – she was grinning? "You can smile?" she tittered.

"What?"

"Right now, you were just smiling."

Shit. "No. No – I was just," he stumbled, pulling up something at random. "Sorry, I was just thinking about how much I'll suck in gym today."

Arlene must've believed it, because she didn't drone on it. With the sound of her effervescent laugh, she opened up a container of Goldfish crackers, holding it up in offering. He took one, grateful that he had at least a bite of something before Hell Class that wasn't expired frozen peas.

* * *

><p><strong>Note from authors<strong>: Sorry for the delay! We hope to keep you updated again soon!


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